


(Un)Complicated Words

by holyfudgemonkeys (erraticallyinspired)



Category: 9-1-1 (TV)
Genre: 5+1 Things, Christopher Diaz Has Two Dads, Christopher Diaz is a National Treasure, Domestic Fluff, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Insecurity, M/M, Minor Injuries, pre and post slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-26
Updated: 2021-02-26
Packaged: 2021-03-16 20:40:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,825
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29706270
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/erraticallyinspired/pseuds/holyfudgemonkeys
Summary: Buck knows what it's like to be young and awkward, so he doesn't bring attention to it.---Or 5 times Christopher calls Buck 'Dad' and 1 time Buck realizes it's intentional.
Relationships: Evan "Buck" Buckley & Christopher Diaz & Eddie Diaz (9-1-1 TV), Evan "Buck" Buckley & Christopher Diaz (9-1-1 TV), Evan "Buck" Buckley/Eddie Diaz (9-1-1 TV)
Comments: 48
Kudos: 998
Collections: 9-1-1 Tales





	(Un)Complicated Words

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ToriCeratops](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ToriCeratops/gifts), [Twice_before_Friday](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Twice_before_Friday/gifts).



> Thank you to the two lovely people who inspired this fic <3

## 1.

The first time it happens, it’s casual. Impromptu. 

_Shocking_. 

“Dad, when will dinner be done?”

The spoon slips from Buck’s slack fingers like water, cascading to the floor where it clatters against the tile, hot spaghetti sauce splattering on his socked feet and along the bottom of the stove. He holds back a curse and bends down to pick it up and chuck it in the sink for washing later. 

Chris hands him two paper towels. “I’m sorry,” he says quietly.

“No, no, there’s nothing to be sorry about,” Buck rushes to say, because, really, there isn’t. Chris hasn’t done anything wrong. He just startled him a bit. Right? Yup. That’s all. He’s definitely not still dizzy with the knowledge that Chris just called him _Dad_. As he wipes up the dots of homemade sauce — recipe courtesy of Bobby — Buck tells himself it was an accident. He called Maddie _Mom_ at least once when he was a kid. 

(Eddie is across the house, taking a shower now that he’s looked over Chris’ homework. There’s no way Chris was asking him.)

Maybe the kid’s just tired. 

(He was a bundle of energy from the moment Buck arrived, opening the door without knocking, because he might as well live here with how often he’s around.)

Yeah, it was just a slip of the tongue. 

Buck grabs another spoon and gives the sauce another stir. “Maybe ten minutes. How about you go see if your dad’s done with his shower?”

## 2.

“Is that your dad?” the kid Chris is walking with asks as they approach Buck and his jeep. 

School just let out a few minutes ago. Eddie had a particularly rough shift and couldn’t stop by to pick him up on time unless he wanted to show up covered in dirt, so Buck, naturally, offered to go. His name is already on the approved list. The school knows him. Even the parents standing nearby recognize him from the many times he’s been there with or without Eddie. Not a single one gives him a second glance.

This kid, though. Buck hasn’t seen him before. He must be the new kid Chris gushed about over dinner a few days ago, Adam. Adam was shy, and he’d latched onto Chris, who was all too happy to be friends with him. At least that’s what it sounded like once they processed the quick stream of excitement. He and Eddie had shared a grin over his head. Later, Eddie mentioned possibly getting in contact with his parents to arrange a sleepover at some point. 

(And Buck promised to help wrangle two kids when it happened.)

“Yeah,” Chris chirps, his crutches tapping against the sidewalk. His smile is blinding, and Buck’s heart soars at how lucky he is to have this kid in his life. It eclipses the momentary snag of hearing what he said. “ _Bucky!_ ”

“I’m guessing you’re Adam,” Buck says with an _oof_ as he picks Chris up, crutches and all. God, he loves this kid.

Adam smiles at him shyly. “Yeah.” He ducks his head. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Chris!”

“Bye,” Chris giggles just before his feet touch the ground. 

## 3.

It’s not uncommon to see some kid drawings tacked up at the station. Not only do they get some from families they’ve saved, but there are plenty of firefighters with children of their own. 

Christopher’s art has been up there with the others plenty of times. Just about everyone on their team has made it into his pieces at some point or another, especially after barbeques at Bobby and Athena’s place. So, when Eddie takes a tack from the jar and proudly pins another sheet of cheap sketchbook paper carefully torn from its binding up on one of the bulletin boards, it’s nothing surprising. 

Buck doesn’t even get the chance to see it before they’re out on another call, this time dealing with an electrical fire that’s already more than out of control before they get to the scene. By the time they get back, he’s tired down to his bones. His equipment can’t come off soon enough. It’s dragging on him, weighing his weary shoulders down. He gets it put away, though, carefully and properly, before he allows himself to sprawl across one of the station couches. His eyes find the board idly. 

Just left of the center is Chris’ newest masterpiece. There are two figures in it, both of them obviously firefighters by the uniform. One is dark-haired, the other blonde. 

The little red crayon splotch of a birthmark gives the latter’s identity away. Buck’s face hurts with how much he’s smiling, not caring that this is far from the first picture Chris has drawn of him. He hauls himself to his feet with a quiet groan and gets close enough to take a good snap of it. 

_I love you, Dad_ , it says at the bottom. The letters are wonky, some of them much larger than the others, and instead of a period, the sentence is punctuated with a lopsided heart. 

(Buck maybe, _totally_ sets it as his phone background.)

## 4.

“I want my dad!” ricochets through the halls.

In his haste, Buck nearly slides across the floor. He’s still in his basic uniform, having been in the middle of a thankfully boring shift when he got the call from Carla. She assured him Chris would be okay. Hell, the doctor told him he’d be okay, too, but it’s hard to believe when the kid’s voice is so filled with pain. 

What’s even worse is that Eddie is in Texas for another day. His father ended up in the hospital for something, and Eddie was torn about going back, knowing it wouldn’t be good for Chris to see his grandfather in such a state, and his mother was too busy fretting to take care of a child. 

So Buck came to the rescue. Bobby was all too willing to shift his schedule around to be more kid friendly. Carla was more than happy to watch Chris when work went past school hours. Most importantly, Eddie trusted him with his son.

A hospital visit in LA wasn’t supposed to be on the docket. 

Carla is visibly relieved when she catches sight of him skidding into the room. “He’s been asking for you,” she says, but the words are lost beneath Chris’ sob of _Daddy_.

Buck barely manages to give her a quick smile before he’s hugging the kid the best he can without touching his right arm — and his previously dislocated elbow. The way Chris clutches at him with his left makes his chest tight. He wishes he could promise his Dad would be there soon. He wishes he could guarantee Eddie would be able to pick up his phone if he facetimed him right now.

He wishes it wasn’t a minimum three hour flight between here and Texas. 

Burying his head in Buck’s chest, Chris says something unintelligible through his tears. 

“We’ve set his arm,” the nurse says kindly. “He needs another round of x-rays and a splint, but then he should be good to go home.”

Buck nods at her. “Thanks.” He soothes Chris’ back. “You hear that? Just a little more and then we can leave.”

(They break open a new carton of ice cream when they get back to the Diaz house. Buck lets him put as many toppings on it as he wants.)

## 5.

This thing between him and Eddie is new. Achingly new, still all shiny and light and tentative for all that they’ve known each other — trusted each other with their lives — for years now. 

Buck is… trying not to get his hopes up. He’s Buck 3.0 now, right? He refuses to go into this relationship guns blazing, and for all that Eddie makes him feel like an awkward teen dating for the first time, he’s committed to being responsible about this.

_Realistic_. 

They’ve told Bobby and the team. They’ve told Athena and Karen and Carla. They’ve told Chris. 

And Chris? Chris didn’t blink an eye. If anything, he’s smiling more, pleased as punch to have his Bucky around more often, to have his dad happy and in love. 

It worries Buck. It hasn’t been _that_ long since the Diaz boys lost Shannon. Eddie may be ready to try moving on, but Chris lost the parent he knew best for the bulk of his life. Buck can’t compete with her, doesn’t _want_ to. He’s okay with the idea that Chris might never consider him a parent. 

That doesn’t mean it’s not hard when the kid comes up to him like this, all worn out after running around at the park, and hugs him, leans on him, says —

“I love you, Dad,” into the soft cotton of his shirt, following it up with a wide yawn. 

Buck knows it’s a sleepy accident. He knows he can’t let himself get comfortable with it. He _knows_. 

(It still makes him smile so wide.)

“Looks like someone is ready for bed,” Eddie jokes as he joins them, meeting Buck’s lips in a gentle kiss. “And here I thought we were getting ice cream tonight.”

Chris tilts his head back with utter trust in Buck to hold him up. “I want ice cream!”

The sugar perks him up again. 

(They don’t talk about the Dad thing.)

## +1

When Eddie proposes, it’s a fairly private thing. Only the three of them are home. Dinner was takeout after a long shift for him and Buck, and dessert will be brownies from the grocery store bakery. The movie on the TV is something Chris picked, something cartoony and cute and heartwarming but otherwise nothing out of the ordinary. 

Buck turns the TV off as soon as the credits start rolling. 

Eddie gets up, stretches casually, fishes something out of his pocket.

And then he’s on his knee in front of the couch.

Buck, half sitting up, feels like he can’t breathe. The world has narrowed down to him and Eddie and Chris still snuggled up on his other side, and it’s so much excitement and shock and confusion to take in at once that he feels almost sick with it. 

“Buck,” Eddie says, all soft and smooth and oh so lovingly. There’s a simple gold band in the box. “ _Evan_ , would you marry me?”

The _yes_ is caught in his throat. Buck turns to look at Chris, to see how he’s taking this, because they’ve moved in together, yes, but they haven’t done much serious talking about the future of this and what it means for all three of them. 

Chris is grinning, his eyes closed and his teeth bright. He thunks his head against Buck’s shoulder. “What are you waiting for? Say yes, Dad.”

Buck does.

(Chris calls him Dad many times after that, and Buck starts to realize that maybe he was all along. 

God, does he love this kid — _and_ his dad.)


End file.
